


Age of Queens

by childoffantasy



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, Friendship, Funeral, Gen, No beta we die like stregobor should have, Not Canon Compliant, Politics, written with only the barest nod to game canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:48:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25197967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/childoffantasy/pseuds/childoffantasy
Summary: “She has a level head, she’s managed as well as anyone could given her father just died. Even more so than Foltest ever did, I suspect, though she certainly didn’t get it from her mother.”After Foltest's death, Jaskier and Triss have faith that Adda will rule well as queen.
Relationships: Jaskier | Dandelion & Triss Merigold
Comments: 20
Kudos: 22
Collections: The Witcher Flash Fic Challenge #004





	Age of Queens

**Author's Note:**

> When I say not canon compliant I _mean_ not canon compliant. I have only the vaguest knowledge of the game canon, and sure enough when I spent like 5 seconds reading the wiki after writing this I found like 6 things that totally contradict what I have here. I'm having fun and that's what's important.
> 
> I should warn that there's allusions to Adda's parentage that are approximately as subtle as the Netflix show was, so read with care if that puts you off. My tumblr is linked in the bottom note, so feel free to shoot me a message if you need to know to avoid anything.

Jaskier beat the last rhythms of King Foltest’s funeral dirge and let his hands fall to his sides, drum and voice both silent. The air rang for a moment with the silence before the funeral procession swept forward. The royal family headed the train, followed by higher nobles with blood relation to the crown, mixed in with those of the royal house who had married outside of Temeria but returned for the last rites of the patriarch. After them came the remaining higher and then lesser nobility in rough order of rank, then a few other sufficiently influential guild leaders and merchants, and behind them those of the common folk who wished to brave the crowds in hope of seeing their king laid to rest. Most of the rest of the population of the city lined the main streets to watch the procession pass, offering a prayer for his soul. The work of the city of Vizima wouldn’t halt for the entire day, but a few hours could be spared for a funeral of state, and nearly all the observers bore a scrap of black ribbon tied or black cloth pinned to their clothing.

His work finished, Jaskier allowed the crowd to move around him while he waited with the dignity befitting the musician at a royal funeral. He could be still and quiet at need, and while he bore no particular love for Foltest, it was a sign of high regard to be offered so solemn a duty.

After long minutes of watching the crowds move around himself like water, a motion at his side caught his attention. Triss Merigold melted out of the passing throng, evidently passing up the place allotted to her in the rank of influential non-nobility in favour of standing at Jaskier’s shoulder. Both of them had long years of experience in being unobtrusive, maintaining appearances and drawing little attention from the court while discussing matters ranging from petty gossip to subtle politics. Sure enough, Triss addressed him in an undertone, her gaze fixed ahead of them and expression suitably muted.

“I am given to understand that her Majesty Adda’s taste for your music was responsible for your being here today.”

Jaskier inclined his head the barest centimetre. “I had wondered if it was her Majesty or someone else in the royal family who requested my presence.”

“She has a level head, she’s managed as well as anyone could given her father just died. Even more so than Foltest ever did, I suspect, though she certainly didn’t get it from her mother.”

“Of course,” Jaskier cut a glance down to Triss for a bare moment. Public conversations like this required a deft combination of efficiency of facial expression and careful couching of one’s language. Triss would interpret that Jaskier was paying close attention to her words from a quick look. “I forget at times that you have been at court in Vizima long enough to have known her Highness Adda the First.”

Triss cocked her head just slightly, a sign that she was listening closely in return. “I have. Her Majesty favours her mother.”

“And no one now living could tell us the ways in which her Majesty favours her father.” There were more rumours than stars in the sky regarding who Adda the Second’s father could have been given that the princess had appeared at court as a young woman to be immediately adopted by an unmarried and childless Foltest as his heir. Jaskier was perhaps more well informed than some, knowing as he did the way Geralt had encountered a cursed individual he was unusually close-lipped about in Temeria not long before Adda had arrived at court. Jaskier also had a long memory for the stories of Foltest being inseparable from his sister before her death, though how close the two had been varied from rumour to rumour.

“Indeed,” replied Triss with the sort of studied nonchalance that after enough years at court became a careful hint at dangerous ground. “Foltest has done well by her, however. She learned well at his knee the art of ruling.”

Jaskier allowed the subject change. “In my years of travel I have long since cast off the disregard I was raised with for Temeria and her subjects. I have learned to love the places, to sing for the people, to appreciate the climate. However, in all this time I have never learned to love the hands-off approach Foltest so frequently employed politically.

“I do not know that Redania’s methods are better, and indeed it is not my place to decide these things, let alone to speak ill of the dead, but I remain convinced that there are better ways to handle plagues and wars. Who’s to say? Perhaps the petitions a bard hears on the road are different than those a king hears in his audience chambers.”

Triss was silent for a long moment, and Jaskier had enough time to worry he had offended her by accident before she spoke again.

“Ah, the petitions a sorceress hears are different again, but I have confidence in Adda. She is perhaps longer-sighted than Foltest ever was.”

“I have found the advice of sorceresses to be invaluable nonetheless, and if Adda is so long-sighted as you say then surely she will find the same.”

“You are too kind to myself and my compatriots, Jaskier. Look, the procession has passed and we are released of our duties.” Sure enough, the crowds were beginning to disperse, though conversation remained largely muted given the occasion, and Jaskier and Triss kept their voices low. Nonetheless, their similarly cheerful personalities made it difficult for the pair to stay entirely solemn.

Triss turned at last to give Jaskier her customary smile and he offered her his arm with only slightly exaggerated gallantry.

“May I escort you to your next appointment, Lady Merigold?”

“If you would be so kind as to escort me to my suite in the palace, Master Jaskier. I believe my appointment was with a dram of fine brandy, to drink a toast to Foltest’s soul and a dram to drink a health and long life to Adda.”

“As my Lady wishes.”

“I invite you to join me in the toasts as well, they carry farther on two voices than on one.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me about what other fictional universes I borrowed style notes from on tumblr: I'm [childoffantasy](https://childoffantasy.tumblr.com) there too.


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